


Pass The Baton

by tinyshoopuf



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff, ryuji getting the encouragement he deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 06:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11709231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyshoopuf/pseuds/tinyshoopuf
Summary: A jolt of energy shot through Ryuji, a ghost of the power-ups brought about by a baton pass, but still potent enough to make him want to yelp. Well, he thought. That's one way to prepare for a track meet.





	Pass The Baton

The familiar jangle of nerves was comforting, in a weird way. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was back to a time before Kamoshida, to when he was the star runner of the track team and the anticipation before the meet was a mingling of anxiety and confidence.

Now, it was mostly anxiety. His leg was stronger after all that time in the metaverse, but he still worried that it would give out on him when he needed it most. His time for the preliminary sprint had just barely qualified him for the final and he’d be lying to himself if he thought he had a chance at placing. Still, his goal in this had been to make it to the final. Winning could come later, after he’d built back up to his pre-injury performance.

That did little to relieve his nerves, though.

When he’d made that off-hand comment a few weeks prior about wanting to make it to the Olympics someday, he really hadn’t expected his mother to take him so seriously. She’d somehow found a coach to oversee his training and while the man wasn’t Olympic level, he _was_ able to make adjustments to Ryuji’s form and give him advice on how to properly train his bad leg so that he didn’t accidentally make it worse. All Ryuji had to do was help out at his grocery store a few nights after school.

Maybe he’d be able to get into a university on scholarship after all, if he impressed the scouts enough. That, his coach said, was the first step to finding someone who _could_ train him for the Olympics.

“Sakamoto?”

Ryuji glanced up from the bench to see one of the other sprinters heading his way. His face was familiar, though Ryuji couldn’t quite place a name to it.

“It is you! I didn’t recognize you with your hair all blond like that. How have you been? We heard about what happened with your leg, that’s real rough, but I’m glad to see you back to running!”

“Oh, haha, yeah, it uh, took a bit to heal, but I’ve been slowly getting back into track.” Akamine, that was his name. “How have you been, Akamine?”

“Pretty good! Our old coach retired over the winter break, so we’ve got a new one. Practice has been grueling, but everyone’s been making a lot of progress and Coach seems proud of us. Uh…I think that guy over there wants your attention.”

Ryuji turned in the direction Akamine was pointing to see Akira leaning over the rail of the stands, waving his arm up and down.

“Ryuji! Come here for a sec!” How did Akira manage to project his voice like that?

“Ah, sorry, dude, I better see what he wants.” Ryuji said, standing.

“No problem! I’ll see you on the track for the final.” Akamine gave a wave and started to trot away as Ryuji headed towards his friends. They were all clustered on the far end of the bleachers, beaming at him with pride and encouragement. Ryuji’s ears turned pink, pleased, but still a little embarrassed.

“What’s up?” He asked as he came to stand in front of Akira.

“Hold out your hand.”

Ryuji reacted on reflex, his body conditioned to obey that tone of voice. Joker was talking, not Akira, and months in the metaverse had trained them all to trust their leader’s voice in the heat of battle when any delay in movement could spell disaster. Once his mind caught up, Ryuji stared at that familiar crooked smile in confusion as Akira brought his own hand down to slap palms.

A jolt of energy shot through Ryuji, a ghost of the power-ups brought about by a baton pass, but still potent enough to make him want to yelp.

“We’re counting on you, Skull.” Joker smirked while his teammates nodded encouragingly. The energy was still there, fizzing pleasantly through his muscles and making him itch to move, and move _fast_. Skull grinned.

“You got it, Leader!” With a whoop, Ryuji headed back to his bench, ready to do his loosening up exercises before the final spring.

“Do baton passes work in the real world?” Ann asked, fidgeting slightly as Yusuke drew daisies along her arm with a gel pen she’d found in her purse. He’d been so captivated by the bright yellow color that he just _had _to try it out, all but abandoning his sketchbook full of charcoal motion studies of the runners.__

__Akira shrugged, tugging at his forelock, all traces of Joker gone._ _

__“Mona did say there’s no such thing as the ‘real world’, that everything’s just our cognition. Maybe if Ryuji thinks the baton pass worked, then it did?” Futaba said. Makoto, who had been busy braiding Futaba’s hair, nodded._ _

__“Yes, I think that makes sense. It might not work if he has time to think about it, but since the final is about to start, he doesn’t have time to question it. Thus, he believes the baton pass worked.”_ _

__They all watched in contemplative silence as their friend lined up for the start of the sprint. Even Yusuke paused in his daisy doodling (much to Ann’s relief) to anxiously await the outcome of the race._ _

__To everyone’s mild surprise, Futaba jumped from her seat with a cheer as Ryuji raced across the finish line just a hair before Akamine, securing first place. The stunned silence shared by the rest of the teens soon dissolved into cheers of their own, giddiness of the win sweeping through them._ _

__“I guess it does work!” Makoto said, laughing as Futaba continued to jump up and down, braid swinging wildly behind her._ _

__It took a while for Ryuji to be able to make his way over to the group, cheeks flushed and a grin plastered across his face as the little gold medal lay heavily against his chest. He looked pleased and a little stunned, the reality of his win still sinking in, and accepted their congratulations in a daze, not quite able to process what was going on._ _

__“Oh, Ryuji,” Makoto said, tucking her phone into her purse. “Haru used her food industry connections to get takeout from that noodle place you like as an apology for having to miss your meet. She’s going to meet us at Leblanc for curry and ramen.”_ _

___That_ snapped him out of his daze._ _

__“Alright, let’s go!” With another whoop and renewed energy, he led the group home and to his victory celebration, dreams of the Olympic games feeling just a little bit more tangible than before._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just here for the friendship and fluff


End file.
